


Double-Blind Study

by cerie



Category: The Newsroom (US TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-14
Updated: 2013-06-14
Packaged: 2017-12-14 22:12:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/841948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cerie/pseuds/cerie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That’s actually the interesting thing about MacKenzie, that for all she’s chaotic, everything she does is artless and natural and uninhibited in a way that Sloan will never be. She envies that freedom, that ability to be nobody but herself, and knows that as much as she might want to, she’ll never be able to emulate it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Double-Blind Study

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Callie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Callie/gifts).



> As much as I tried to resist writing this, [Callie](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Callie) sold me on the idea of Sloan/Mac. And here we are.

Sloan knows that she’s not that good at reading people. She’s always been more comfortable with numbers and facts than anything that requires a modicum of social savvy and emotional intelligence and that’s why MacKenzie McHale knocks her off guard sometimes. MacKenzie, for all that she’s very intelligent, is a whirlwind of emotion that makes Sloan want to make herself as small as possible and slink out of the room unnoticed.

She first met MacKenzie a year or so ago when she insisted that Sloan start doing five minutes in primetime about the economy because, as she so succinctly put it, any analyst from Goldman Sachs or professor from Duke wasn’t going to have her legs. Sloan had been incredibly turned off by that at first but she’d eventually come around to the idea when she realized that what MacKenzie had been trying to do was put an attractive face on an unattractive subject so that people would pay attention to it without compromising any of _Sloan’s_ principles in the process. She wasn’t required to wear sexy clothes. She got to dictate the content of her segments. It was, for all intents and purposes, a perfect showcase for what she did best and she couldn’t thank MacKenzie more for it.

Sloan also likes to think they’re sort of friends. MacKenzie has told her about all the bullshit that went down between she and Brian and Will and while Sloan doesn’t want to pick sides (because she isn’t touching that with a ten foot pole) she does know that MacKenzie is sick over it, sorry, and wishes that Will would cut her a break. She cries about it in front of Sloan more than once and that’s enough for her to want to put a moratorium on all mentions of men for the rest of the night. She touches MacKenzie’s shoulder lightly and motions for her to follow.

“Come on. Let’s get out of here. Nobody should have to cry in public.” It’s been a long time since Sloan has cried. She almost did when she completely fucked up the broadcast the night she hosted Elliot’s show but even then, the tears didn’t penetrate and destroy her carefully-crafted veneer of ruthlessness. It’s easier to be ruthless and cold when you’re in this business and you’re as attractive as she happens to be because men take advantage. Men take advantage of MacKenzie, too, even as much as she might try to play it off, and Sloan has the sinking suspicion that either Brian or Will is going to end up with her in bed tonight if she doesn’t step in and do something about it.

Sloan doesn’t have a car and MacKenzie is way too drunk to manage finding her keys (which they have established are probably in her office) so they end up taking the train. It’s a little more full than Sloan would have expected this late and she has to use her best death glare on two guys who are taking up an entire row so that she and MacKenzie have somewhere to sit (somehow, telling men that she once set the treasury secretary on fire seems to have the most interesting effect).

When they reach MacKenzie’s stop, she helpfully announces she keeps a spare key under her doormat. Sloan is clueless when it comes to interpersonal relations but even she knows that is just fucking stupid in New York and she barely resists the urge to bang her head against the wall. Instead, she unlocks the door and lets them in. Unlike Sloan’s apartment, which is all beige and chrome and black, MacKenzie’s is mismatched and lived in and aside from the shriveled up houseplant in the corner, it looks warm and homey.

Sloan makes a point of locking the door and pocketing the spare key while MacKenzie starts making her way back to the bedroom with a pile of clothes left like some kind of breadcrumb trail. There’s a bra, a stocking and her skirt before Sloan actually gets into the bedroom and finds MacKenzie sprawled across the bed with nothing but her panties on. “You are completely drunk, aren’t you?”

MacKenzie shakes her head and while it’s exaggerated, it isn’t quite as drunk as Sloan had expected. She guesses she sobered up a little on the ride over and that’s good because she left her days of holding hair and cleaning toilets behind two Ph.Ds and an MBA ago.

“Glass-Steagall was repealed in 1999,” MacKenzie offers softly. Sloan isn’t aware she’d asked that question but since economics isn’t a subject that comes naturally to MacKenzie, she guesses it’s proof enough that she’s not really that drunk. She does seem forlorn, though, and Sloan tentatively sits on the edge of the bed next to her. MacKenzie takes that as an invitation to shift so that her head is in her lap and Sloan has no idea what to do with _that._ It’s a situation that calls for some finesse but, instead:

“I’m bisexual. I think choosing a partner based on gender alone eliminates a great many potential partners who might have favorable traits. Since I’m not interested in reproduction, it seems inefficient to only date men.”

MacKenzie looks up at her with big eyes, seemingly shocked, and Sloan feels a blush rise on her cheeks. She hopes it’s dark enough to hide it. Sloan has never really noticed how pretty and delicate MacKenzie is before now but she is, with big dark eyes and pale skin. Sloan brushes back a loose strand of MacKenzie’s hair and closes her eyes when she feels MacKenzie turn her face so that her lips brush against Sloan’s wrist. Oh.

“First time for everything, isn’t there?” Sloan isn’t sure she was actually propositioning MacKenzie, considering she thinks MacKenzie is sort of her boss, but she is not entirely against it. She’s actually not against it at all but there are some things that need to happen first before this can happen. “This doesn’t leave your bedroom. You don’t mention it to Will. I don’t need him hating me.”

MacKenzie rolls her eyes but Sloan plows on, because it’s important and because while she thinks MacKenzie would never do something to intentionally hurt someone, accidents tend to happen where she’s concerned and Sloan wants insurance. “No emails. No text messages. No office memos...” Sloan gets cut off when MacKenzie gets up from her sprawl and kisses her firm on the mouth. It’s...actually a nice kiss. MacKenzie’s mouth is warm and her lips are soft. She tastes faintly of the fruity cocktail she’d been drinking at the bar and when Sloan wraps her arms around her slender frame and tugs her so she’s straddling her lap, MacKenzie whimpers in a way that is incredibly sexy without trying to be.

That’s actually the interesting thing about MacKenzie, that for all she’s chaotic, everything she does is artless and natural and uninhibited in a way that Sloan will never be. She envies that freedom, that ability to be nobody but herself, and knows that as much as she might want to, she’ll never be able to emulate it. She will never be loquacious and expansive and tumble through life from one happy accident to another because she’s just too careful. Maybe being careful has kept her from being hurt the way MacKenzie has but Sloan isn’t entirely sure she’s any better for it. Sloan doesn’t particularly want to end the kiss but she does so that she can stand up and take off her clothes. It’s as efficient as anything else about her and she carefully drapes her them over a chair before laying down next to MacKenzie again - who seems to have lost her panties in the interim. If she is drunk, at least the most important faculties are intact.

Sloan might have taken the risk by outing her sexual orientation but it’s MacKenzie who takes a bigger risk and shifts down to kiss her breasts. It feels _really_ good and Sloan is half afraid her phone’s going to ring or MacKenzie’s will ring or somehow the end of the world will come and the entire staff of News Night will be beating down MacKenzie’s door. None of those things happen. What does happen is that MacKenzie works her tongue around one of Sloan’s nipples and Sloan lets out a little cry in spite of herself because it’s been practically forever since she’s slept with anyone and MacKenzie is wickedly talented.

MacKenzie shifts so that she can rub herself against her knee while she kisses her and Sloan thinks her eyes roll back into her head. MacKenzie is slick, hot and wet, and she isn’t sure how much longer she can let this go on without one, preferably both of them coming. Sloan shifts a little to try and move MacKenzie and is rewarded with a muttered curse and the most beautiful look on her face: ecstasy and happiness and utter shock all rolled into one. “Move. There’s something I want.”

MacKenzie does move, sprawling bonelessly against the bed with spread thighs and because Sloan is efficient and loves numbers, she decides the best thing to do is to turn so they can do this simultaneously. MacKenzie laughs warmly against her knee and Sloan’s concentration breaks. She kisses MacKenzie’s hips and thighs lightly while spreading her own and she sighs when she feels MacKenzie’s tongue press against her. It’s messy and the rhythm is off and while normally that would bother her, it doesn’t tonight. Nothing is bothering her except the fact that MacKenzie is a tease and every time Sloan’s almost there, MacKenzie drags her tongue away from her clit and moves it somewhere far less satisfying. Sloan decides that two can play and does the same, only to be rewarded with MacKenzie gripping her hips firmly and dragging her down to her mouth, licking and sucking until Sloan can do little more than just collapse against her.

She shifts after a moment or two of coming down and buries her face against MacKenzie, using single-minded focus to get her there and grins when she comes with a loud curse and an arch of her hips that’s so sudden that Sloan’s almost afraid she might have broken something. Nothing’s broken. Not tonight.

It takes some coordination that MacKenzie doesn’t quite have to pull Sloan up into her arms but once they’re settled, Sloan drifts off to the feel of MacKenzie’s delicate fingers playing against her skin. Her voice is low with soft rounded vowels that make even the most mundane words seem like poetry.

“I think I like the idea of gender-blind research. For future reference.”


End file.
